


Hearts Untraveled

by JungleKitty



Series: Kirk/Brandt Cycle [17]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Hand Jobs, Outdoor Sex, Public Hand Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 20:58:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21259553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JungleKitty/pseuds/JungleKitty
Summary: If you're going to do it in public, San Francisco is a good choice.





	Hearts Untraveled

**Author's Note:**

> (c) 1998 Jungle Kitty. Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount. This not-for-profit piece of fan fiction is not intended to infringe on that ownership. The author's copyright applies only to the creative content and her original characters.
> 
> This story is one in a series about the relationship between James Kirk and Suzanne Brandt. It is #17 in the entire series, and part of the Stories of the First Five-Year Mission (2264-2269).

Kirk awoke with a start to an unfamiliar sound. Immediately alert, he thought, Warp engines don't sound like that. Then he chuckled to himself as he became aware of his surroundings. No, warp engines don't sound like rain against a window.

He relaxed back into the warmth of the bed. A large, comfortable bed and, surprisingly, he had it all to himself. The bedroom door was slightly open, and he heard a low voice on the other side.

"All right, we can play, but quietly, understand? No, not the squeak toy. The boot. That's it. Go get it, Luke! Go on!"

He rolled his eyes. Suzanne. Who else would even attempt to play quietly with a dog?

He sat up and looked at the chron. Nearly 1030. Well, he'd intended to spend quite a bit of this three-day leave in bed...but not sleeping. He got up and pulled on a robe, yawning and scratching. He opened the door and was immediately struck in the chest by a soft rubber toy.

"Ow! Luke, down!" he growled at the dog.

"Oh, sorry, Jim! Luke, come!"

The dog pranced back to his mistress, who was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the living room floor. Kirk passed them silently on his way to the kitchen.

"Good morning to you too!" Brandt called after him.

"Coffee," he muttered.

He poured himself a cup, sipped, and grimaced. How could she possibly make something worse than what came out of the ship's synthesizers? He poured the dark liquid out in the sink and went back to the living room, stopping to kiss the top of Suzanne's head.

"Why did you let me sleep so late?" he yawned as he sank down on the sofa.

"I thought you needed it."

"That bad, huh?"

He'd arrived at her San Francisco apartment late the night before, feeling drawn and brittle. The crises of the past few months had taken their toll, and he had the horrible feeling there was more to come. He pushed those thoughts away. You're on leave. Enjoy it.

"Frankly, you looked like you'd been rode hard and put away wet."

He grinned. "I was."

"Even *before* I got to you."

She stood up and went around to the back of the sofa. He felt her strong hands begin massaging his neck and shoulders. He groaned happily. After several minutes of welcome pressure, she eased up and kissed his ear. Then she climbed over the back of the sofa and sat next to him.

He hugged her and murmured, "Mmm. Three days."

"Uh, I've got bad news for you, JT."

He pulled away. "What?"

"I'm going on assignment tomorrow morning."

"Oh, shit."

"What can I say--it's my turn to save the galaxy."

He leaned back and sighed. "Where are you going?"

"It's classified."

"Over two months, Suzanne. Without a word," he said gently as he searched her eyes. "Where've you been?"

"Sorry. Classified." She smiled regretfully and shrugged.

After a beat, he rumbled sarcastically, "Are you here now?"

"Technically, yes. But don't tell anyone you saw me."

She winked at him.

***

Showered, shaved, and feeling almost human again, Kirk finished the last of the bacon and eggs as he stared dreamily at the rain running down the window panes. The normally magnificent view was distorted and smudged into soft, impressionist colors. The city and the bay beyond blended into a whirling splendor more comforting than anything he'd seen in a long time.

"Wake up." Suzanne waved a hand in front of his face. "What do you want to do today?"

"Go for a walk."

"It's pouring rain!"

He looked at her pointedly.

"You've been dirtside too long, Brandt."

She shook her head ruefully as she realized that she deserved to be scolded. How could she have forgotten the joy of genuine weather when you've been stationed in space? A person could only live so long in a perfectly balanced environment before wishing for Mother Nature's uncomfortable and unpredictable variety. Of course he wanted to be out in California's wet, miserable version of winter.

"All right," she conceded. "A walk."

"And after that," he continued, "I want to make love to you until you have to leave."

Her eyes opened wide in admiration. "That's almost twenty hours."

"With breaks as needed for rest and nourishment."

"You're on."

They slipped into their coats and Brandt got a large umbrella out of the closet.

"Aren't we taking Luke?" Kirk asked, reaching for the leash.

"Are you kidding? He has too much sense to go out in this."

***

The streets were practically empty and they walked arm-in-arm under the big umbrella. San Francisco had been home to Brandt for over three years but Kirk was struck once again by the town's uniqueness. The space colony cities were too new to have developed any real character and most of the older Terran communities re-invented themselves with each generation. But San Francisco had stubbornly maintained her broadly textured personality. Always managing to be both behind and ahead of the times, she playfully took on all comers and dared them to adjust to her.

Eventually, the two lovers wandered down into the Castro, that centuries-old mecca for bizarre conduct. Although the prejudices against same-sex and multi-partner unions had died out long ago, the neighborhood residents still took great pride in their community's history and worked very hard not to fit in too neatly with anyone's expectations. Many people persisted in exhibiting dress and behavior from bygone days, nostalgic for a time when such displays would have drawn stares or worse. Suzanne loved the neighborhood, dubbing it "the slash version of Colonial Williamsburg."

Standing in front of a colorful window display of garish sexual appliances and cosmetics, Kirk whispered, "Is this where you got the Vulcan dildo?"

She rolled her eyes. "Am I *never* going to hear the end of that?"

"Well, it was...memorable."

"Where do you think I got it--the quartermaster's supply room? Of course I bought it here. And no--" She cut him off. "--I do *not* have an account."

They continued studying the merchandise, noting that many items were labeled in languages other then Galactic Standard. Finally, Brandt blushed and said, "JT, I hate to admit this but...I'm not even sure what some of these things *are*."

Suddenly, there was a four-fingered purple hand on her shoulder. Brandt turned and found herself face-to-face with a large male Freyan. He was carrying a gold-spangled umbrella and was outfitted in full Orion dancing girl drag.

"Honey, you're not supposed to," he drawled sympathetically and sauntered away.

***

They kept walking, moving deeper into the neighborhood, enjoying the colorful architecture that was uniquely San Francisco. But their pleasure was short-lived when it began raining very hard, and they were splashed by water bouncing up from the sidewalk.

"We should find a cab," Kirk said as he looked around hopefully.

"In this? We'll be better off ducking in somewhere for a while."

A block later, they came upon an almost-hidden alley. Two sharp turns to the right, and they found themselves in a small courtyard. It was lined on three sides by mews that appeared to be several hundred years old. The low-lying buildings, which had been converted to apartments and office space, had been washed clean by the downpour. The two captains were alone in the enclosure, and it was utterly and magically silent except for the sound of rain spattering against the cobblestones.

"Here," Kirk said as he pulled her up two steps into a recessed doorway. "We'll have a chance at staying dry."

He closed the umbrella and propped it against the wall. Brandt looked around, noting that they were almost completely hidden by several potted trees and shrubberies. She leaned against the wall and pulled him toward her.

"This is very cozy," she whispered as she kissed him.

"Mmm."

He returned her kisses and closed his arms around her waist.

The delicious pressure of mouth against mouth went on for some time, until they were both feeling very warm despite the chilly air. Soon their kisses were more than playful, and they knew they should stop but...just a little longer. Just a little bit more.

As Kirk leaned into her, Brandt braced herself in the corner and rubbed her hips against his.

"Jim," she purred as she unbuttoned his coat.

Recognizing that tone, he said firmly, "No. Not here."

He's right, she thought regretfully as her tongue brushed the hollow at the base of his throat. It is rather...public. Might be dangerous and...exciting...and...Why the hell am I hesitating?

Looking over his shoulder, she scanned the second-story windows across the courtyard and made a command decision.

"I wasn't *asking*," she whispered as she unzipped his jeans, reached inside and cupped his balls.

Her hand was cold, and Kirk made a sharp noise as he tried to pull away. But she had him exactly where she wanted him. And, if truth be told, exactly where he wanted to be.

He groaned as her fingers closed around his scrotum and the palm of her hand kneaded the base of his cock.

"No, Suzanne, don't."

But he made no move to stop her.

"It's good, isn't it, Jim?" Her warm breath tickled his ear as she pleaded softly. "Please...let me just touch you. You like it, don't you? You like it when I touch you like this."

God, yes, he liked it. Her hand was warmer now, and her voice was low and throaty. She knew precisely what she was doing and it was irresistible.

"Let me be good to you, Jim."

"...ah..."

Feeling control slipping away and no longer caring, he pushed his hips forward, brushing the head of his cock against the rough fabric of her winter coat. She moved her hand up the length of his cock, pinching it and tracing the veins.

"You're a witch," he rasped as he unbuttoned her coat and pushed up her sweater.

She laughed softly, recognizing a compliment when she heard one.

He cupped her breast with one hand and her bottom with the other. Her guttural sigh went straight to the flame that was flickering in his groin and whipped it into a full blaze of desire.

Suddenly she released him and pushed his jeans down onto his hips. Then she put her hand to her mouth and he watched breathlessly as she licked her palm and fingers lasciviously.

"Watch," she said as she looked down.

His eyes followed hers and he saw his cock, hard and red, pushing obscenely toward her. He saw her small, wet hand close around it and begin stroking. He saw the milky fluid gather at the tip. When he felt her reach underneath him with her free hand and slowly squeeze his balls, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the gratifying thrill of her touch.

It had been a very long time since anyone had jerked him off, and he'd almost forgotten the aching frustration of knowing this was a much as he was going to get. No slide into warm, wet darkness. No sudden tightening of his balls as her body opened to him. No gasping shock as her muscles closed on his cock and demanded to be fucked hard. Just her hand. Small and moist but strong--god yes--strong and demanding. Just her hand. And it was enough.

He felt the flames reaching higher as his trembling legs threatened to give way. He reached up and pressed his hands against the wall. Suzanne stepped to the side, never pausing or slowing the exquisitely rough motion. He looked down and fell completely under her spell as he watched her hand pump his swollen cock.

The fingers that had been massaging his balls slid around him and he felt them press hotly against his ass. Her fingernails were short but not so short that she couldn't dig them into his flesh, and he grunted "Yesss" as he watched his cum shoot out and hit the wall.

***

Kirk slipped his penis back into his pants and zipped up. Then he turned and saw Brandt wiping her hand with leaves from the potted trees.

"Come here," he growled as he pulled her to him and put her in the corner, exactly where she'd been when they'd started kissing. He kissed her hard as he unfastened her jeans and slipped his hand in.

"Oh god!" she gasped as she broke away from the kiss.

He slipped two fingers in between the lips of her sex and she jumped. As he caressed the slick entrance to her body, she pressed her hands against her face and choked, "Ah! ah! ah!"

Knowing how vocal she could be, he covered her mouth with his as he pressed his fingers up inside her. She was very wet, and he felt her arms close around his shoulders as her legs opened, accepting--no, welcoming--his none-too-tender touch. Once inside, he eased up and finger-fucked her almost gently as he thrust his tongue into her mouth in a matching cadence.

When he felt her moving with him, he broke from the kiss and pressed his thumb against her clitoris. She moaned loudly and rocked her hips toward him.

"Shhh," he breathed.

She rode his hand helplessly as he pushed the tiny head back and forth. When he began moving his thumb in a circular motion, she buried her face against his shoulder and whimpered. He pressed his fingers up firmly into her and felt her clamp down on them, almost trying to expel them. Her clit was round and hard, and he rotated it slowly as he stretched his fingers inside her.

"Ahhh! Harder!" she demanded as she clutched his shoulders roughly.

"Not yet."

The sound of his voice sent her tumbling into an erotic fantasy? dream? memory? When had he--? No, not Jim. *She* had done this. Most recently in a narrow bunk aboard the ship that brought her home. The mission had been difficult and ultimately successful, but once it was over, she realized she'd been crowded in with strangers for two lonely months. Tightly wound by a need that had been suppressed for too long, she had prayed for the Enterprise to pick her up. But for once, the cases of Romulan ale with which Jim had been bribing the fleet captain failed them. She was beamed aboard a tiny vessel that took six days to complete the journey to earth. Mercifully, she had a cabin to herself, and she couldn't count the number of times she had tortured herself as she tried to replicate his touch.

And now--at last!--it *was* his touch. His presence, his decision, his gift. His scent, drowning her in blissful reality. And sweetest of all--

"Jim..."

\--to say his name aloud and know that he heard her.

She bit her lip as he gently stroked her clitoris. She wanted to relax, to savor what he was doing, but the memory of wanting him bore down on her and she was suddenly afraid of being pulled back into that dark loneliness.

"Say my name," she pleaded.

"Suzanne," he whispered and pressed his mouth against her neck.

His voice, his warm lips on her skin--the sensations that were uniquely him--surrounded her and she tumbled helplessly into a joyful existence where pleasure was given, not made. It was now, here, *real*.

She fell against him trembling as his thumb worked gently and unhurriedly.

"Jim!" she gasped. "I can't--stand up--"

He pushed his knees between hers, and she straddled his thighs and held on tightly, knowing that his hand was the only thing that kept her from sliding down the wall.

He increased the pressure against her clitoris and she suddenly froze, poised on the verge of climax.

"Please! Make--me--come!" she babbled breathlessly. "I *need*--!"

"Yes, now," he whispered as he pressed his thumb firmly against the diamond-hard button. "Come now."

She groaned loudly, and a slippery cream poured over his hand.

***

"What are you laughing at?"

"You!"

It had stopped raining, and the lovers were relaxing on the steps of the little hideaway.

"What about me?" Brandt asked suspiciously.

"I can't believe you grew up in a *convent*!" Kirk chortled.

She rolled her eyes. "It was *not* a convent. I've told you before--it was a boarding school."

"Right. And this particular 'boarding school' was run by--?" he prompted.

"The Daughters of the Goddess of the Holy Grove," she finished the sentence reluctantly.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that a religious order?"

She didn't answer.

"So explain to me again how a boarding school run by a religious order differs from a convent."

"I was enrolled as a secular student," she said patiently. "I didn't have to participate in the rituals. I just had to--"

"Attend them. Yes, I know. Brat, just because you didn't have to take vows doesn't mean it wasn't a convent."

He paused as he wondered if the triple negative had made him say something other than what he thought he'd said. He decided she knew what he meant and continued teasing her. "No wonder you were still a virgin at sixteen."

"Well, *farm boy*--" She stood and glared down at him mockingly. "--at least I lost it someplace a little classier than a cornfield."

Refusing to be baited, her pulled her down and sat her between his legs.

"A cornfield can be very pleasant," he said amiably.

"A cornfield is disgusting. Love among the mealy bugs. Yech!"

"And I suppose you've never done it anywhere disgusting."

"Define disgusting."

He thought for a second. "Atmosphere not conducive to romance."

"Oh! Well, according to that definition--" He should have known what was coming from the ways her eyes sparkled. "--the most disgusting place I've ever gotten laid is your quarters."

Kirk opened his mouth to dispute her and realized to his chagrin that she was quite possibly right.

"But I give you points for persistence in the face of such a terrible handicap," she went on cheerfully as she played with his fingers. "So where was your most disgusting place?"

"Well, I'd have to say...right here."

"Here? How can you say that? It's secluded and cozy and with the trees and the rain--"

He took her hand and dragged her out into the alley.

"Brandt. Look," he said as he pointed at the sign on the little overhang that had sheltered them from the rain.

"Oh my god."

Suzanne blanched visibly as she realized she'd just been diddled in the back entrance of a Tube 'n' Lube.

***

Seated at a small table in a corner cafe, Kirk savored an excellent cup of coffee and asked casually, "Is Skorheim sending you out a lot lately?"

Brandt nodded as she buttered a muffin. "Mmm," she said non-committally. "I still spend about half my time doing analysis--you know, strategies and contingency plans."

"Do you like that sort of thing?" Kirk couldn't imagine anything worse than planning missions for other people to go on.

"Love it. It's fun. I think I love everything about Special Ops." She gestured importantly with her knife. "The only way they'll get me out of there is when they pry my secret decoder ring off my cold, dead finger."

Kirk laughed and pinched her hand where a secret decoder ring would have been.

"So what's this assignment coming up?"

"You know I can't tell you that."

"Tell me the unclassified part."

"Well, it's like most missions." She waved her hand in dismissal. "Ninety-five percent boredom and five percent terror."

"So what do you do during the boring part?"

"Mostly we play games to pass the time until the terrifying part."

"What sort of games?"

"Why all the questions?" She frowned at him.

"I'm interested." He smiled charmingly. She looked dubious as he pressed on. "I don't know anything about what you do. What kind of games do you play?"

"Twenty Questions...Who Would You Do."

"All right. Who would you do--?" he began.

"JT," she interrupted, "I don't think this is a good game for us to play."

"Why not?"

"If you've done either of the two people," she explained, glancing up at him from under her eyelashes, "you have to admit it."

He looked away and almost blushed. "You're probably right." He cleared his throat. "What else do you do? To pass the time."

"Make up new code names."

"Like?"

"I can't tell you. We might use them. I can tell you some of the old ones, though. Once we each used the name of a childhood pet. I was Sundance."

She smiled happily.

"I hate to say this, Brat," he teased, "but Special Ops sounds very silly."

"It's just silly enough to balance the terror," she explained in a superior tone. "Are you going to eat that?" She pointed at the jelly donut on his plate.

"Yes. Get your own."

"I would if the servitron would ever come by."

She looked around impatiently. He cut the donut in two and handed her the larger portion.

"You probably exaggerate all the dangerous parts of your assignments just so you can keep playing those ridiculous games."

"Hmmm," she frowned. "Now that you've guessed our secret, Captain Kirk, I'll have to kill you. Or initiate you." She folded her hands and eyed him critically. "With a lot of work, I could probably turn you into an...acceptable operative."

"You're doing a very poor job of recruiting me."

"Well...I'm sure I could find *something* for you to do," she purred.

"No, thanks. One night under your command was more than enough."

He signaled to the passing servitron.

"And the entire galaxy can go to hell," he continued, "before I'll let myself be called 'Peaches.'"

He drained his coffee cup as she choked on the last of the jelly donut.

***

When they returned to the apartment, chilled but invigorated, Brandt put on water for tea while Kirk got a fire going in the fireplace. When she came out of the kitchen, he was settled comfortably on the sofa, warming his bare feet in front of the crackling blaze. She sat down next to him and handed him a steaming cup that smelled like mint. He took a polite sip and set it down on the floor.

"All right," she sighed. "I'll make you some coffee."

"No, stay here."

He put his arm around her, and she curled up against him. They watched the flames silently. After several minutes, she felt him relax heavily and debated whether she should wake him and send him to the bedroom, or let him sleep and wake up with a cramp in his neck.

"Jim."

She nudged him gently.

"*Jim*."

"...unh?..."

"If you're going to sleep, go in the bedroom."

"No, I'm awake." He lifted his head. "Just resting my eyes."

"Sure you were. Go take a nap."

"Starship captains..." He yawned loudly. "...do not take 'naps.'"

She stood and pulled him to his feet.

"Well, I know one who's going to."

She pushed him toward the bedroom.

"Suzanne, stop it."

He resisted half-heartedly.

"Listen to you. You're *cranky*." She propelled him through the doorway. "A nap is just what you need."

They stood beside the bed, staring each other down playfully.

"Stop calling it a nap."

"All right. Captain, I recommend a brief period of inactivity."

"Well, if you put it that way..."

He tumbled onto the bed and pulled the quilt up over himself.

"Join me?" He reached for her hand.

"No. I've got some things to do around here before I leave tomorrow."

"Don't let me sleep the rest of the day, all right?" he mumbled as he buried his face in the pillow.

"What rest of the day?" she muttered affectionately.

Brandt shut the door quietly behind herself and went back to the living room. She was greeted by a soft beep from the comm.

"Brandt here."

"Commander Wallis here, captain. I'm sorry to bother you at home but there's some fresh data coming in that I think you should take a look at."

"All right, Jack, shoot it over. I'll contact you when I've seen it."

***

Half an hour later, Captain Brandt rubbed her forehead and sighed. She thought for several minutes before punching up a link to her first officer.

"Wallis."

"Jack, it's me. I've seen the report."

"Captain, may I point out the source? There's a possibility of inaccuracy--"

"There's always that possibility, Jack. We can't take unnecessary chances. We need to seriously re-examine our safety margin. Recommendations?"

"At the very least, bring in Lieutenant Jorgensen, possibly k'Vor as well."

"Agreed. We'll have to brief them in transit."

"And, Captain--I hate to say this but--"

"I know, Commander." She sighed in resignation. "Meet me in my office at 1900 hours with Jorgensen and k'Vor. We'll leave tonight. Brandt out."

***

Kirk awoke with a gasp as Suzanne, naked and very cold, climbed into bed with him.

"Aah! Get away from me! You're freezing!"

"I know. The hot water cut out. Warm me up."

Her wet hair dragged across his shoulder as she tried to curl around him.

"No!" He struggled to get away from her as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Your hands are like ice!"

"So rub them. Come on, Peaches."

He pushed her as far away as he could and warned, "Don't call me that."

"But it suits you so perfectly. Especially a certain part of your anatomy that's round...and golden...and fuzzy..." She grabbed at that part and pleaded, "Warm me up, Peaches."

"There's a certain part of *your* anatomy that's going to be *very warm* if you don't stop calling me that."

There was a wicked gleam in her eyes as her lips puckered to form a "P." He pushed the quilt down, rolled her onto her stomach, and raised his hand.

"I mean it, Suzanne."

Suppressed laughter shook her body, especially the part most directly threatened.

"P-p-peaches!"

Three quick smacks followed by one very long kiss and...well, eventually, she was warm all over.

***

"You're leaving *tonight*?"

"I'm sorry, JT, there's nothing I can do about it."

Kirk sat on the edge of the bed, watching Brandt pack her kit with practiced efficiency.

She looked over at him and fought down a smile. Maybe it was because his hair was still tousled from the 'brief period of inactivity,' but he looked like a small boy who had just been told that he can't go out and play.

"Cheer up," she chided him. "There are lots of fun things in San Francisco."

"But you're the one I wanted to do."

She laughed and went on with her packing.

"So what'll you do with the rest of your leave?" she asked.

"I don't know."

"You're welcome to stay here."

"Here?"

"Well, it's more comfortable than those sleeping compartments on base, and if you go back to the Enterprise, even to sleep, you'll end up working."

"Well..."

"You can use this as your home base for a couple of days. Beam over to the mountains and ski, and then down to Mexico for some sun--"

"I'd feel strange staying in your apartment."

"You could have lots of fun here. Run up my comm bill. Snoop through my stuff. Try on my underwear."

Over her shoulder, she shot him a flirtatious glance as she went into the bathroom.

He frowned and called after her. "Is that what you do in my quarters on the Enterprise?"

"You should see how cute I look in your boxers." She stuck her head out the door and winked at him.

"I'll bet you do," he murmured to himself.

He lay back on the bed and folded his hands behind his head. She came back and tossed toiletries into the kit.

"Well...maybe I *will* stay here. I could go around the city and...pick up hookers."

"Oh, that's original. Just remember--Luke is trained to protect *my* interests."

Brandt snapped her bag shut and lobbed it toward the doorway.

"And while we're on the subject of my interests--" She climbed onto the bed and straddled him as she lectured sternly. "--if Lori Ciani comes sniffing around you, tell her I don't care if she *is* a vice admiral, I'll kick her butt from here to Antares."

Kirk pushed her over and rolled on top of her.

"Believe me," he murmured as he nuzzled her neck, "Lori is very low on my list."

"You have a *list*?"

"I was speaking metaphorically."

She frowned and muttered, "I guess I should be glad I made the top ten."

He pulled her hands up over her head and looked her directly in the eye.

"Brandt, you *are* the top ten."

He let go of her hands as he kissed her, and she relaxed underneath him.

"Why, thank you, JT," she said lightly. "Only you could make a compliment out of such a disgusting statement."

"And speaking of disgusting..." His eyes narrowed. "My quarters are not that bad."

"Oh, face it, Jim. The only romantic thing in that place is you."

"And you."

"No, you're the romantic. I'm the realist, remember?"

"Oh, of course. I forgot. You don't have a sentimental bone in your body."

"That's right."

"Hmph." Kirk smiled happily, knowing he was about to win this round. "What was it you wrote in that book you gave me for my birthday?"

"I knew that was a mistake," she groaned as she tried to get up.

"How did it go again?" He frowned, holding her fast. "'Wherever I roam--'"

He smiled puckishly as he waited for her to complete it.

She sighed. Her eyes went soft and moist in spite of herself as she recited softly,

"'Wher'ere I roam, Whatever realms I see,  
My heart untravell'd fondly turns to thee.'"

"You're right, Suzanne," he smiled mischievously. "Only a complete philistine would write something like that."

Then he kissed her with great tenderness, savoring the taste of the words he'd wanted to hear spoken aloud for a very long time.

***

Kirk looked out the window and watched Brandt lower the umbrella as she stepped into a cab. At the last minute, she looked up and waved. He smiled and waved back.

He watched until the cab disappeared in the distance. Although it was warm in the apartment, he shivered. Suddenly the rain had lost all its appeal. Now it just looked cold and dark and wet.

"So...what do you think, Luke?" he asked as he poked up the fire. "Squaw Valley or Puerto Vallarta? Hmmm?"

The dog looked up at him curiously.

"Too bad dogs can't do rock-paper-scissors. Well, let's see. Can't join Bones or Spock--they're both out of touch. But there are plenty of people on base that I can get drunk with, if that's what I want to do. Or...I could beam to Iowa and take my mother out to dinner."

He stopped and thought about what he'd just said.

"Oh my god, that's pathetic."

He laughed as he imagined that conversation. 'You see, Mom, my girl had to go on a secret mission so if you're not busy...'

"Well, come on, Luke." Kirk pushed himself up and headed toward the bedroom. "Let's see what she's got in her underwear drawer."


End file.
